


How to date your guardian angel

by chronosaurus (kimnamjin)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 5 + 1, 5 Times, A love story ten years in the making, Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Comfort No Hurt, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, Felix is there for a minute or two, Fluff and Mush, Growing Up Together, Guardian angel!Minho, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Idk it’s cute, It’s one of my best minsungs i think personally, I’m very excited to finally post this hehe, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Love Confessions, M/M, Protection, Reunions, Sappy moments, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, all the feels, and!! Minho’s bday fic!! Happy bday my fave boy!!, human!jisung, maybe kinda sorta?, minho cares for jisung So Much, my 2nd to last skztober fic :(, physical comfort, soft boys being soft boys, theyre both whipped is what I’m sayin, theyre so in love....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnamjin/pseuds/chronosaurus
Summary: “So…” Jisung started, feeling uncharacteristically bold. “Wanna go out? You saved me from a crocodile, falling off a building,andgetting run over. TheleastI can do is take you out for some dinner.”Minho stared him down, but he's still smiling. “Jisung, did you forget I'm yourguardian angel?Saving you is quite literally myjob.”His large white wings fluttered as he said it, as if to hammer home the point.Jisung could not be deterred. “Exactly! You're my guardian angel, and I have no regard for my personal well being. Sounds to me like a match made in,”“Don't say it,” Minho pleaded.“Heaven?”Minho sighed, but he's still grinning like a lovestruck fool as he says, “You got me there, Jisung.”Or: 5 times Jisung’s guardian angel saves him, and 1 time he saves Minho.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 44
Kudos: 368





	How to date your guardian angel

**Author's Note:**

> Written to (my fave song of all TIME): racing into the night by YOASOBI   
> inspired by a post of the same title by HGK477 on tumblr
> 
> Happy birthday Minho!! I love you so much, thank you for always making me laugh when i need it, and giving me the confidence to be completely myself everyday <3 ur such a special person, have an amazing day my love <3

Jisung first saw him when he was 10 years old. 

****

When he was still living in Malaysia, and he was young and naive and didn't understand the implications.  _ Couldn’t  _ understand them. 

****

He was enjoying a river cruise with his family, when an appropriately-rambunctious 10 year old Jisung leaned too far over the bow of the skooner, and tipped head over heels into the murky river.

****

There was a deafening, thunderous splash.

****

The passengers erupted into an understandable panic, Jisung's parents included, at the horrifying sight of an innocent little boy rapidly swallowed by the river. 

****

But Jisung knew how to swim. He wasn't drowning. That wasn't what prompted people of all ages alike to shriek in horror.

****

As Jisung was frantically doggy paddling back to the very bow he fell from, a zip of motion in the river made itself known. 

****

It was a crocodile. An ugly, snaggletoothed thing with an armor plated hide like a dragon. It was heading  _ right  _ for Jisung, had beady eyes trained solely on the boy kicking up waves as he desperately swam back towards the boat. 

****

Jisung saw his young life flash before his eyes.

****

And then, when nostalgia faded from his vision, Jisung saw  _ him.  _ A flash of unnatural white amongst shades of muddled green.

****

A boy. Probably Jisung’s age, if not a year or two older. He was huddled up on the overgrown banks of the swollen river, crouching in the ferns. He was wearing a spotless white tunic and sandals, which struck Jisung as odd.

****

He also had a pair of dove-tail, white wings on his back. That also struck Jisung as odd.

****

The strange boy was just as beautiful as he was mysterious, though, apparent despite the fear chewing up young Jisung’s brain. He can never forget the worried pinch of the boy’s brows, aging him far past his youth. He can never forget his dark brown eyes, how they stayed locked on Jisung fighting through the water and him alone.

****

Suddenly, the crocodile pointed its scaled nose away from Jisung. It casually swam back down the river, as if the young boy thrashing for purchase simply ceased to be. 

****

At that moment Jisung’s father managed to get a good grip on his son’s soaked shoulders, and hoisted him out the river and back into the boat. The passengers exploded into cheers and applause, but Jisung was much too engrossed searching for white wings in the tall grass to bask in the relief of safety. 

****

His family always says it was the racket of the terrified passengers, coupled with Jisung’s father making such a commotion, that scared the hungry crocodile away. 

****

Jisung thinks otherwise.

****

He knows his life was saved that day because of the winged boy in the reeds.

****

He knows he was his guardian angel.

****

Jisung isn't 10 years old anymore.

****

He's 19, and almost a decade has passed since the river cruise incident. 

****

Yet he's never forgotten him, his wings, his gorgeous features as he watched Jisung with palpable worry. He thinks about him every day. 

****

He  _ needs _ to see him again. The idea had been dancing in the back of his head for  _ years,  _ but after a particularly vivid dream featuring the winged boy and a raging river, Jisung officially put his mind to it.

****

He  _ has  _ to see him again.

****

To finally thank him for saving Jisung from becoming crocodile bait, if nothing else.

**_  
  
  
  
_ **

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

**_  
  
  
  
  
_ **

Jisung knew he had to go big, in order to get the results he so desired.

****

That  _ is  _ the time tested expression, right?  _ Go big or go home?  _

****

Jisung went big.

****

He went to the biggest thing he could think of, on such short notice. 

****

He went to the roof of the student union building on his college campus, a few short blocks from his very own dorm complex. There were probably better options, but his severe impatience made him set his sights on the first structure to come to mind. Not to mention it has a forever-unlocked door on the top floor, leading to easy rooftop access. 

****

Jisung is in college now, in Seoul. He's not a scared 10 year old boy swallowing river water in Malaysia. He's different now. He's changed, matured. He hasn't had any near-death experiences since that fabled day in the river, for one. His life has become stable, and calm.  _ Safe _ . It makes sense that he hasn’t seen his angel since that day in the river, because there’s been  _ no reason  _ for him to make another reappearance. Perhaps...until now. 

****

But some things stay the same, like how he hungers to look into those eyes again, as if a legitimate nutrient for survival. How he dreams of that boy’s heavenly face at  _ least  _ twice a week.  _ Heavenly.  _ That's what he is, isn't he? He had wings for goodness sake! 

****

He was his guardian angel, without question. Hopefully still  _ is  _ his guardian angel, given what Jisung is about to do. Given how he just shimmied himself onto the thin ledge of the building’s roof. Given how he clambered over the waist-high chain link guard fence, keeping the nervous wobble in his knees to a minimum, lest he take a premature tumble before he’s mentally prepared. 

****

Campus is empty at this hour, so there's no one around for Jisung to scare the living daylights out of, thankfully. Hopefully this will all go  _ well,  _ in general.

****

The student union isn't a skyscraper by any means, but it's a good three stories high. Jisung wouldn't  _ die  _ if he hit the ground, but he also wouldn't walk away...unscathed. 

****

But that's a risk he's accepted. He's resigned himself to a broken leg and rib and some internal bleeding, all in the name of attempting to see that boy again. 

****

He’s well aware this is drastic, and stupid, and could quite literally do some major damage if his supposed guardian angel shirks his duties today. But he  _ has  _ to do this. Well, he doesn't  _ have  _ to, obviously. He went 9 good years in peace, without any daredevil stunts to prove a beautiful angel is watching over him. But it's always been  _ brewing,  _ his earth-sized need to see him again. To  _ talk  _ to him. To thank him.

****

So with that thought in mind and snuffing out his rising doubts, Jisung sucked in a steadying breath, calmed his speeding heart, and shut his eyes. He looked down once earlier, and the three story sheer drop made his tummy plop to his toes. The darkness behind his lids is  _ much _ more comforting. 

****

Jisung took in one more breath, just for good measure. He savored the air in his lungs, just in case that last breath is truly his  _ last.  _ And then, he made his body purposefully limp on the ledge. He felt himself tipping, tipping,  _ falling.  _

****

He squeaked, as his twiggy body fell forward and is now cradled by air and the sharp gusts of wind whipping past his face. His brain spun this way and that, as the combination of darkness and vertigo and dizziness made him queasy. 

****

He's falling. 

****

He fell.

****

Into a pair of strong, warm arms.

****

There was no one on the ground level when Jisung was on the rooftop. Just a stretch of empty, unforgiving pavement, waiting for an incoming  _ splat  _ of bones hitting the sidewalk. 

****

At the feeling of those arms lacing securely around his thighs and keeping him pressed against an unknown chest, Jisung forced his eyes open.

****

He's met with a familiarly beautiful face, but rather than the tender features of a boy his age, he's now a  _ man.  _ The same as Jisung’s  _ current  _ age. Maybe even a year or two older. 

****

He grew with him, it seems. 

****

He's met with sculpted brows pinched in the center with panic, just like they were that unforgettable day in Malaysia. 

****

He's met with white, downy wings, folded neatly against a broad back.

****

“Are you out of your  _ mind?!  _ What was that for?!” The man—his  _ guardian angel— _ squawked, eyes wide and worry-stricken, and Jisung couldn't help but smile up at him. Jisung just fell off a  _ building,  _ but he’s smiling, easy and crooked, as if he just won the lottery. The angel’s arms are so warm and securely wrapped around his thighs, keeping him safely off the concrete. The angel tightened his grip on Jisung’s body, as if sensing his thoughts. 

****

“Sorry,” Jisung mused, his voice languid and breathless from a combination of relief at being alive and in one piece, and because his misguided plan  _ worked.  _

****

“I just wanted to see you again. It's been almost 10 years, since that day.”

****

His guardian angel pursed his thin, pink lips in confusion. He gently guided Jisung to the ground feet first, and only spoke once he’s steady on the pavement.

****

“You remember me? You  _ saw  _ me that day, in the river?” He asked, along with a sweet little tilt of his head. His hair is thick and brown and reflects gold in the early morning sunlight. 

****

Jisung nodded, eagerly. “Of course! I knew you saved me that day, so...thank you? I didn't mean to give you a scare just now, but...I was…” Jisung left the statement open ended, until the right word popped into his head.

****

“Desperate. To see you again.” He eventually settled on. 

****

A light pink flush painted the angel’s angular cheeks, and now Jisung knows guardian angels can blush. 

****

The angel sighed, and his tautly-held wings deflated with the exhale. White feathers fanned, ivory and perfect in the sunlight. “What am I gonna do with you, Jisung?” 

****

His skin prickled as he said his name. He  _ knows  _ his name. He always did.

****

Jisung giggled, suddenly too giddy to stay still. He bounced on his sneaker’s heels as he chirped, “Well, you could tell me  _ your  _ name, for starters?” 

****

The angel stayed unreadable, as he silently considered the ramifications of giving in to Jisung’s will. 

****

Apparently he can deal with whatever repercussions may appear in the near future. 

****

“Minho.” He said, and Jisung swears he felt lightning strike the crown of his head as the angel did so. 

****

_ Minho.  _

****

Jisung wants to say it out loud. So he did.

****

“Thank you, Minho.” He looked up from under his lashes, and found the angel smiling at him. Soft and small, but the curl at the edges of his lips is unmistakable. “For always protecting me.” 

****

Minho’s smile widened, until the beaming grin is bordering on goofy. Jisung’s heart is so warm and tingly, as if the muscle itself is cradled by dove-tail wings. 

****

“Just be careful Jisung, okay?” 

****

Jisung was about to protest, something about how he'll jump off as many roofs as needed to see Minho again and again and again. He was unable to.

****

Once again, the angel may as well have read his thoughts. Minho sent him a knowing, playful glance through glittering eyes, and added, “I'll see you soon enough. I promise.” 

****

_ A promise. _ He got a promise from his guardian angel. Who Jisung may very well be in love with.

****

Jisung was about to answer, when he blinked unconsciously.

****

When he reopened his eyes, no more than a single second later, Minho is gone.

****

Now in his place is a single white feather, sitting neatly on the cracked concrete. 

****

Jisung’s breath is shuddering, as his eyes are instantly drawn to the lone feather below. 

****

He  _ was  _ there. That  _ did  _ just happen. It wasn't another dream—not this time. 

****

Jisung bent down and picked up the feather. Held it delicately between the pads of his fingers, before pressing it flush to his chest, right over his heart. 

****

It's still so warm, and satiny soft.  _ He’s  _ so warm, inside and out. 

****

He'll see Minho soon enough.

****

He promised. 

**_  
  
  
_ **

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

**_  
  
  
  
_ **

Jisung expected to see Minho soon, but he didn't plan on seeing him  _ the next day  _ soon.

****

But, granted, he  _ should've _ expected it, as he began to traipse head long into the perpetually busy intersection by campus. He was just taking a short walk around the block to stretch his legs before returning to his dorm, when he abruptly found himself…. _ there.  _ At the concave dip in the pavement, leading into tire-trampled asphalt. 

****

He doesn't even know what possessed him to ignore the  _ no crossing  _ signal flashing across the street, and instead hop off the sidewalk and onto the road. Trucks and cars and taxis are screaming past, stampeding through the green light before it turns red, but Jisung might as well have been put in a trance. 

****

The crosswalk is empty of other pedestrians, save for Jisung. There's no one there to stop him. Not even his own subconscious is a worthy opponent, in the face of Jisung's feet piloting him into the intersection.

****

Jisung took another unconscious step, and an 18-wheeler zoomed dangerously close to the toes of his sneakers. The enormous vehicle kicked up a miniature windstorm, sending Jisung's hair and flannel jacket flying. The horn blared. It made his ears ring.

****

On autopilot, Jisung made move to take another tentative step. He wasn't even  _ thinking _ . And he was about to press on, had a hand not balled up the back of his flannel and forcefully dragged him back to the curbside.

****

Two hands are slapped onto Jisung’s shoulders, and they turn him around. After the world stops spinning and the white noise subsides in his ears, Jisung can comprehend the familiar sight before him.

****

Minho has two palms squeezing Jisung's shoulders, keeping him effectively in place on the safety of the sidewalk. 

****

His wings are currently gone since they're in the middle of a crowded public street, but Minho now wears an appropriately fluffy white chenille sweater, as if to take their place. His brows are scrunched up in concern, just like yesterday. Just like always, when Jisung is involved. 

****

“Jisung, what are you  _ doing?”  _ Minho barked, but the gruffness in his tone is severely tempered by the desperation and tightness of his grip on Jisung’s frame.

****

Jisung gulped, suddenly at a loss for words. What  _ was  _ he doing? 

****

“I...I guess I wanted to see you again?” He murmured, voice quiet and barely audible over a new rush of traffic, as the red light turns green. “I'm sorry, Minho, I-I wasn't thinking–”

****

“ _ Jisung,”  _ Minho said again, and his voice is like a lighthouse in a storm. Like a beacon in the dead of night, guiding Jisung to protection and warmth. He sighed, and his breath was shaking. “I'm not mad at you. I hate seeing you put yourself in such dangerous predicaments just to see  _ me.”  _

****

He says it like Jisung wouldn't readily jump in ten crocodile infested rivers or plummet off one hundred buildings just to see  _ him.  _ Wouldn’t walk across a ten-lane highway  _ blindfolded _ , just to see him

****

Jisung nodded, his throat still constricted for reasons unbeknownst to him. “Then,” he started, cautiously. “Will you come see me more often? So I won't have to put myself in these situations?” 

****

Minho rolled his eyes at Jisung, but the haughty gesture is not malicious in the slightest. He loosened his vice grip on Jisung's shoulders, but kept his palms flush on the rounds of muscle and bone all the same. The contact grounded Jisung, took the place of a swaddling security blanket, made him comfortable again. His wild heartbeat slowed, as he focused deep on the pressure of Minho’s tiny hands. 

****

Minho even didn’t ask why. Didn’t even question _ why _ Jisung wants to see him so badly every-damn-day, to the point where he would put himself in such  _ danger _ . He just accepted it. Accepted Jisung, and his antics, without a second thought. 

****

He heard the ghost of Minho’s voice between his ears;  _ what am I gonna do with you, Jisung? _

****

“Fine,” Minho said through a smile, perhaps begrudgingly. Perhaps not.

****

More traffic is shrieking past, but it all faded to silence as Minho and Jisung made unbreakable eye contact.

****

“I'll come see you more often. For your own good.” 

**_  
  
_ **

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

**_  
  
  
_ **

Jisung didn’t want to admit how cranky he was, the two days he went without seeing Minho. But everything seemed so utterly dull and boring and  _ dreary _ , when he wasn’t there. He’s only been with him twice in earnest, and from that alone Jisung aches to imagine a life without him. 

****

Of course, Jisung spent said couple of days holed up in his dorm, studying for his upcoming midterms and not doing anything  _ remotely  _ dangerous. Save for making his poor brain ache from the influx of information, but nothing even teetered on  _ guardian-angel  _ worthy.

****

Although if Minho wants to save Jisung from his calculus midterm this friday, he wouldn’t exactly complain. But alas, he has a feeling that isn’t exactly in Minho’s job description. 

****

He contemplated making another trip to a campus rooftop, but ultimately decided against it; he thinks he's given Minho more than enough excitement for one week. He took pity on the angel, despite the pang it caused in his heart. Plus, Jisung  _ might  _ have given himself a newfound aversion to heights, after that little stunt. He wants to stay  _ far  _ away from high ledges, just as much as Minho wants him to.

****

But those terrible, awful, no good Minho-less days were just that;  _ two days.  _ Because on the third day of Jisung being all by his lonesome, it began to rain. Later on in the afternoon it began to  _ pour.  _ And that’s when he got a text from his friend, Felix, right as he was taking a break from shoveling his nose into a math textbook. 

****

_ Jisung!! It’s raining and I’m stuck at the pool! Can you pls pick me up?? I’ll love u forever and buy u all the choco milk u want  _

****

Jisung barked out a laugh at the text, as he typed out his answer.  _ Of course  _ it became torrential  _ right  _ as his buddy was finishing up swim practice, leaving him stranded inside the tiny changing rooms by the olympic-sized lanes. Of course Felix lives a few minutes from the outdoor swim complex, and doesn’t bother driving over. Of course he needs a ride, and called upon Jisung. 

****

And, of course, Jisung can never say no to him. Even though Felix, admittedly, could just as easily walk home and get a bit drenched in the process.  _ He just finished a  _ swim _ for goodness sake, how foreign could a bit of wetness be?! _ Jisung internally griped, a genuine grin still on his lips despite his friend’s dramatics. He sent his reply back just as quickly, nonetheless. 

****

_ Sure, lix. I’ll be there in 15. Hang tight!  _

****

As soon as the text is successfully delivered, Jisung toed on his sneakers and shrugged on a hooded parka, and made his way to his hand-me-down sedan parked in the adjacent student lot. Jisung doesn’t drive much, since he doesn’t leave campus much to begin with, but he’s a  _ relatively _ confident driver. He abides by all the rules, and always gets where he needs to go. But all in all the road is a terrifying place, and, even though the open-air pool is no more than 20 minutes away, Jisung felt a knot pinch his tummy as he slipped into the driver’s seat. 

****

Jisung has  _ always  _ hated driving in the rain. Something about how the roads become sickeningly slick, how the droplets race down the windows makes his heart race and palms sweaty as they grip the steering wheel. But Felix needs him, so he clicked his seatbelt secure and put the sedan in drive. 

****

So far, so good. The roads are totally empty, because of the torrential downpour clouding the skies and blotting out the sun. Angry, bullet-loud rain drops pelt against Jisung’s windshield, with enough force to threaten a dent in the glass. His wipers are working overtime to keep his view clear, but despite the current ease of his trip Jisung is  _ still  _ on the better side of nervous right about now.

****

And that’s when his eyes spotted  _ something  _ out of the corner of his sight, in the passenger seat. Something that shouldn’t be there, because it was  _ empty  _ when he entered the car. Thighs, muscular beneath starched dress pants. A broad torso, wearing a spotless white tunic. He may have even caught a glimpse of a pair of leather sandals, feet idly crossed at the ankles under the profile of the glove box. White feathers pressed up against a faux-suede backrest. 

****

Jisung startled, yelping in shock, and the wild tremor of his hands caused him to swerve on the deserted road. Before his sedan could make any life-threatening turns or lane-changes, a hand shot out and grabbed the wheel. A hand placed itself right over one of Jisung’s, gripping his knuckles tight and keeping his driving steady and on track. 

****

“M-minho?!” Jisung screeched, his eyes bulging and his heart racing away in his chest. The guardian angel is sitting shotgun, expression focused as he leans over the console to compensate for the angle of his hand on the steering wheel. His impressive pair of white wings are awkwardly scrunched against the back of the passenger seat, and Jisung can only assume it’s a rather uncomfortable position. He wasn’t there five minutes ago. He wasn’t there  _ one  _ minute ago. “I thought your job is to protect me! Not give me a heart attack and make me almost swerve off the road!” 

****

Minho scoffed, but Jisung can now hear the smile beginning to upturn his lips. He forced his expression back into hardened stoicism, as he replied, “I  _ am  _ protecting you! I know you hate driving in the rain, so I’m here to make sure you get to Felix in one piece.” 

****

_ Felix?  _ Jisung thought, appropriately taken aback at the sudden name drop.  _ He knows about Felix? _

****

He knows about Jisung’s disdain for driving in the rain?

****

What  _ else  _ does Minho intrinsically know about Jisung?

****

It begs the question:

****

Does he know Jisung is in love with him?

****

Maybe he does, because Minho then changed the positioning of his hand over Jisung’s; loosened the grip on his fingers so it’s less-so panicked, and more-so tender. Almost loving, in the gentleness alone. Again, as if Minho heard his thoughts, clear as day. Jisung’s heart rate slowed from the contact alone, on instinct. 

****

“Thank you,” Jisung said, breathlessly. He doesn’t know what else to say in the dizzying wake of Minho’s hand cradling his, and the physicality of knowing he  _ cares  _ about him so much. It’s like a biological entity nestled on his lap and keeping him warm, the fact that Minho cares for Jisung and his well being so intensely. Of course, it  _ is  _ his job to do so, but Jisung  _ knows _ he would have made it to the pool safely had Minho not decided to pop up and give him a (literal) helping hand. But the angel did come anyways, because he was worried for him. Worried that  _ he’d  _ be afraid. 

****

He just wanted Jisung to be calm, when he wasn’t even in any immediate danger. 

****

_ Doesn’t that go beyond the call of duty? _ Jisung can’t help but think. 

****

He relaxed in the driver’s seat, and stole a quick glance at the angel before returning his gaze to the rain-slicked road. Minho is now unabashedly smiling, in spite of his own sparkling brown eyes trained solely on the slippery asphalt ahead. The sign for the entrance to the swim complex just passed. They'll be there in under three minutes. 

****

Minho did his job. 

****

And then some. 

****

“Hey, Minho,” Jisung began, out of sheer compulsion to break the silence in the cabin. He didn’t even know what he was going to say.

****

But it didn’t matter. Because Jisung stole another glance at the passenger seat as he wheeled the car into the lot of the swim complex, and he is met with quite the sight. Or... _ lack thereof.  _

****

Minho is gone. Jisung didn’t even consciously notice the absence of a figure at his side, or the comforting warmth of his hand on his fading into nothingness. “Oh.” Jisung sighed, wistfully, at the emptiness now in the place of majestic white wings. His hand feels colder, without the heat of Minho’s on top. 

****

But in defiance of the sudden lack of the angel, Jisung is still grinning. As he pulled up to the gates of the pool, and Felix scurried out of the changing rooms and dove into the passenger seat—where Minho sat mere seconds prior—he couldn't be bothered to lament the angel’s abrupt leave. His heart is still warm and fuzzy and safe. 

****

_ He’s  _ safe, because of him. 

**_  
  
  
_ **

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

**_  
  
  
_ **

Perks of living in a single dorm?

****

No one to steal your snacks from the pantry, or lock you out of your abode with a crusty sock hung on the door knob, or crushed beer cans littering the linoleum kitchen floor. 

****

Cons of living in a single dorm?

****

Not having anyone to help with leftovers, when Jisung vastly over-orders from the student-favorite Greek place just outside campus. 

****

Which is  _ often,  _ because if there’s one thing Han Jisung has, it is eyes bigger than his stomach. 

****

Jisung heaved the overstuffed paper bag onto his dining room table, grunting from the sheer weight of the order.  _ God,  _ why does he  _ always  _ do this? Without fail, he ends up ordering enough takeaway for the entire floor of his dorm, let alone one lanky boy like himself! 

****

Oh well. At least he’ll have lunch and dinner set for the next week, right?

****

Jisung pulled a porcelain plate from the kitchen cabinet, and set it on the single placemat on the table. He began to unpack the bags, fingers deftly retrieving servings of stuffed grape leaves and lemon potatoes and fresh-baked spinach pie. The plastic containers are hot to the touch, lids dappled in condensation, and Jisung’s tummy rumbled.

****

He briefly left his dining nook, in order to snatch up a dish-washer fresh fork and knife from the drawer.

****

When he returns, the table isn’t empty anymore. 

****

There’s a figure sitting in the other chair that  _ was  _ pushed under the wood face a couple seconds ago. The chair that Jisung only  _ has  _ because it came in a set, and he couldn't just buy one. A figure wearing a telltale ivory tunic and charcoal slacks and brown leather sandals. 

****

He saw white wings pressing up against the wooden backrest, held neatly between prominent shoulder blades, and his heart fluttered in his chest. Wings strapped to the racing muscle, keeping it aloft behind his ribs. 

****

He wasn’t expecting company tonight. Not like he’s complaining. 

****

“Minho?” Jisung doesn't even know why he bothered asking, as he rounded the table. Who  _ else  _ has downy white wings and can magically appear out of thin air? 

****

“Hey.” greeted Minho, simply, as Jisung set his fork and knife on the plate and sunk back into his respective chair. 

****

At the angel not offering any further explanation for his unannounced arrival, Jisung added, “Well...welcome to my humble abode,” He gestured at his tiny, yet equally well-appointed dorm. “Make yourself at home. Also...whatcha doin’ here, exactly?”

****

Minho’s lips quirked up at the corners, and the coquettish smirk sent chills down Jisung’s spine. It just hit him like a brick to the skull that he’s sitting at his dinner table with an  _ angel.  _

****

Not just any old angel, at that.  _ His  _ guardian angel. The one being in the entire universe destined to protect him, forever. Jisung is now old enough, wise enough, to understand those implications.

****

“What, you ask me to come see you, and now that I do you’re complaining?” Teased said angel, his dark eyes gleaming with a spark of mischief. 

****

Jisung sputtered in his seat. “I-I’m not complaining! I’m just  _ asking  _ why you decided to stop by, is all! Is the ceiling about to cave in, or something?” Jisung squeaked, warily looking up at the age-related cracks in the aforementioned popcorn ceiling. 

****

Minho allowed himself to full-on belly laugh, throwing his head of caramel brown locks back as he cackled. Even his wings shimmied, as if giggling in their own right. Jisung’s eyes almost watered as he listened to those giggles, let them wash over him.“No, no. The infrastructure of your dorm is completely sound.” 

****

Minho’s melodic chuckling petered out, as he eyed the untouched containers of food spread on the table. “But now that you mention it,” he said under his breath, and reached a tiny hand over the table. He uncapped the box of grape leaves, and plucked one from the serving. 

****

He popped it in his mouth, gave a few dainty chews, and swallowed. He nodded in approval, “Yup, that checks out. No food poisoning here, Jisung. You’re good to go.”

****

Jisung’s rounded cheeks bunched as a toothy grin bloomed on his lips.  _ Minho is so cute,  _ he thought.  _ I’m so in love with him.  _

****

“Thanks for looking out for me,” Jisung mused, “As always.” 

****

Minho preened in his opposing chair, puffing out his chest and unfurling his feathered wings in satisfaction. Happiness at a job well done.

****

Jisung suddenly had a feeling Minho is about to pull his patented disappearing act again, now that he’s sure Jisung is completely safe; from shotty dorm workmanship and possible food poisoning alike. A jolt zapped Jisung back to reality, and he popped from his seat, frantically. 

****

“Wait here,” he placated Minho, who looks more than a bit taken aback at Jisung’s abrupt exit from the table. 

****

After scampering into the kitchen, Jisung returned no more than a minute later with a glass, a plate, and a knife and fork clutched in his arms. He set the porcelain plate and utensils before Minho, and poured him a healthy glass of kiwi-lime flavored water. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I ordered  _ way  _ too much food for one person, anyways.” It's not like Jisung is really giving him much of an option, now that the full glass of fruity water is by his place setting.

****

Minho pursed his lips and contemplated his response, just like when Jisung implored him for his name that fateful day at the student union. He weighed possible answers in his head, invisible gears turning just behind his eyes. 

****

Jisung is hoping, more than he ever has in his life, that he’ll say yes.  _ Thinking,  _ desperately, for him to say yes.

****

That settles it. Minho  _ must  _ be able to hear Jisung’s thoughts, because  _ right  _ as that sentiment passed through his brain, Minho perked to rapt attention in his seat. He snapped his gaze up at Jisung, and declared, “I’d  _ love _ to stay for dinner, Jisung.” 

****

He almost sounded frantic. As if any spare second he took before answering would put Jisung in grave  _ danger.  _

****

Minho must be able to hear his thoughts. 

****

Which means he probably heard Jisung think of him as cute, earlier.

****

Which means he most definitely knows Jisung is in love with him.

****

Maybe he’s in love with Jisung, too. 

****

But that’s a conversation for another time, he decided. Jisung is simply content to bask in Minho’s presence while he’s here, sitting across from him at his tiny dining room table. 

****

Jisung hummed, the note audibly contorted by the wide smile on his lips. He patted Minho on the shoulder, reaching behind a wing, before making his way back to his side of the table. He uncapped the plastic lids of the lemon potatoes and spinach pie—it’s all still warm, despite all the time they spent chatting. Like his heart, thumping away as if a furnace in his chest.

****

They might just be in love with each other, he thinks. He doesn’t know, but he  _ thinks _ .

****

And for now, as Jisung grabbed the nearest food container and met the angel’s eyes from across the table, that’s more than good enough. 

****

Jisung fixed Minho a plate. 

****

And for once, all is right in the world. 

**_  
  
  
  
  
_ **

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

**_  
  
  
  
  
_ **

Two days after their dinner, Jisung awoke to sunlight streaming through his shades, and a figure sitting cross-legged on the jut of his window sill. 

****

He should’ve reacted like a  _ normal person  _ and jolted upright in a cold sweat, eyes wide with horror and a scream poised in his throat. 

****

Instead, a lazy smile tugged onto his lips. He rubbed sleep from his eyes with the ridges of his knuckles, as he rasped, “Good morning, Minho.” 

****

The angel’s wings are outlined in a halo of early morning sunlight, sending diffused pillars of gold through each individual white feather. The single feather Minho left Jisung as a token after their first meeting on campus is sitting pretty on his nightstand; but its beauty is vastly outshined by the sheer perfection that is Minho's pair of majestic wings, loosely unfurled and curling daintily around his folded legs. 

****

Jisung’s eyes are bleary from residual fatigue, but he doesn’t need to squint through the haze to see Minho is smiling at him. 

****

“Good morning, Jisung.” 

****

Now Jisung sat up in bed, his duvet sliding off his chest and draping around his hips. He turned to face the angel sitting atop his window sill. “Is there a reason you were watching me sleep like a weirdo? Or was it just ‘cause.” 

****

Minho blushed, furious ruby tinging his cheeks in the wake of Jisung’s tease. 

****

The angel shrugged, his lips pouty and glossy. “Keeping watch in case you had nightmares?” It sounded unconvincing, at best. 

****

Jisung narrowed his eyes at the angel, easily seeing through him. “Nightmares aren't dangerous, Minho. They're just bad dreams.” 

****

Minho’s ruse crumbled, just like that. He kept his doe eyes trained on his hands in his lap, as he softly admitted, “I missed you, okay?”

****

He tacked on, “It was just ‘cause.” 

****

Jisung’s heart pounded like a thunder clap in his chest, making his ribs quake and his skin prickle. He grasped at his duvet, the knobs of his knuckles soon turning white.  _ I love you,  _ he thought fervently,  _ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

****

Jisung has  _ never _ felt this degree of love before in his life. To the point where he wants to bury himself alive in it. To the point where he doesn’t even feel like he lives on earth anymore—he feels like he lives  _ in  _ this love, the constant clip of the world outside just a distant murmur on the sidelines. 

****

Minho looked up from his hands and over at Jisung for the first time in too many minutes. There's a knowing gloss over his eyes that didn’t help the chills rising on Jisung’s flesh. The angel sucked in a breath, and Jisung feels like he’s standing on the edge of the rooftop again. About to fall.

****

“I love you, too.” Said Minho. Jisung plummeted again. 

****

If Jisung’s bottom lips trembled, he quickly forced it still. If his own eyes are blanketed by a rush of liquid emotion, he blinked the tears away in favor of wordlessly patting the exposed sliver of bed at his side. 

****

When he opened his eyes again, Minho isn’t on the window sill anymore. Jisung’s heart almost popped right from his chest from fear he scared him off, until a familiar hand is placed on his.

****

He looked down, at the small hand gently grasping the back of his. He looked to the side, at how Minho is now sitting down on his bed with him, expression soft and cheeks scarlet, his wings folded neatly and out of the way. 

****

Jisung gulped, and draped his other hand on top of Minho’s. Jisung feels like he’s drowning in his love for the angel, feels it steadily filling up his lungs, but it’s not scary. He’s not in danger. 

****

Minho doesn’t need to save him. Not this time. 

****

“Thank you,” Minho announced, seemingly out of nowhere. He tightened his grip on Jisung’s hand as he spoke. 

****

“For what?” Replied Jisung, with a confused tilt of his head. What on earth could Minho be thanking  _ Jisung  _ for? For sharing his overabundance of Greek food two days prior? For staying away from rooftops and intersections alike? For making his job  _ somewhat _ easy recently?

****

No, no. 

****

“For saving me.” Minho declared, with the utmost confidence. Those three simple words made tears threaten to rush back onto Jisung’s waterlines, as he stared numbly at the angel at his side. 

****

“Saving  _ you? _ F-from what?” Jisung whispered, each word audibly trembling as they left his lips. He blinked away the wetness clouding his vision, so he can see Minho in all of his angelic, heavenly glory. He doesn’t want to miss a  _ second _ . 

****

Minho scooted closer to Jisung, ignoring how the duvet caught around his knees. He darted over and pecked Jisung’s temple, before saying, “From loving you in secret for the rest of time.” 

****

Jisung hiccuped a dry sob, but no tears fell. He’s far too happy, far too relieved, to allow liquified joy to run from his eyes. Closing whatever inches are still between them, Jisung snuggled flush to Minho’s side, and nestled his head in the crook of his shoulder. He sucked in a breath, and his senses are filled with the aroma of fresh cotton and four leaf clovers and fluffy white clouds. The entire universe is dancing on Minho’s skin and in his eyes, and Jisung can’t tear his gaze away.

****

Jisung felt Minho’s velvety soft feathers brush up against the skin of his exposed arms under his tee, and he melted. Everything feels so soft, so pure, so plush. As if his mattress was swapped with cotton candy, his body with the sun, his heart with the clouds. They stayed in that sugary sweet silence, cuddled up on his bed and enjoying each other’s company, the world outside his dorm window taking a temporary backseat. Minho may have avian wings and be able to poof into existence from nowhere, and Jisung may be a mundane human, but in that moment their minds are one; they’re together, finally. Time and space and something implacable all worked in perfect harmony, and now their destinies have intertwined. 

****

And for now, that’s more than good enough. 

****

Until Jisung decide to flip the peace on its head, in typical Han Jisung fashion. Confidence coursed through his veins, as he committed the feeling of Minho’s head resting against his to memory. He knows what he needs to do. To  _ say _ .

****

“So…” Jisung started, feeling uncharacteristically bold. He removed his head from Minho’s shoulder, and leveled him with a wicked smirk. His eyes are tear-free and starry, they reflect Minho's luminous smile in his pupils. “Wanna go out? You saved me from a crocodile, falling off a building,  _ and  _ getting run over. The  _ least  _ I can do is take you out for some dinner.” 

****

Minho stared him down, but he's still smiling. “Jisung, did you forget I'm your  _ guardian angel?  _ Saving you is quite literally my  _ job.”  _ His large white wings fluttered as he said it, as if to hammer home the point.

****

Jisung could not be deterred. “Exactly! You're my guardian angel, and I have no regard for my personal well being. Sounds to me like a match made in,”

****

“Don't say it,” Minho pleaded. 

****

“ _ Heaven?”  _

****

Minho sighed, but he's still grinning like a lovestruck fool as he says, “You got me there, Jisung.” 

****

Without another word–or cringe worthy joke–Jisung kissed Minho’s cheek, as if to physically seal the unspoken promise. 

****

And just like that, Jisung has a date set with his guardian angel. 

****

He first saw him when he was 10 years old, while a hungry crocodile was bearing its toothed-maw down on him. 

****

But now, as a 19 year old college student in Seoul, Jisung and Minho’s paths have fully interconnected once and for all.

****

There’s no more elaborate game of cat and mouse. Jisung doesn't need to play easy to save anymore. 

****

It was simpler than he thought, honestly. They were in love from the very first moment, anyways. 

****

Who knew it would be so easy, to date your guardian angel?

**Author's Note:**

> this actually ended up becoming one of my fave minsung fics ive ever written, so i hope u enjoyed reading as much as i did writing!!
> 
> if u liked this pls,,,drop me a sweet sweet küdō,,,i crave validæshün 
> 
> And tune in on halloween for my skztober finale, featuring my chanlix magnum opus i wrote a few days ago :~) and once again happy birthday best boy lee minho !!!!!


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